Obedience... always obedience.

You fidget in your schoolgirl **** outfit as Cindi circles you. She carries a thin leather crop that she uses to inspect you as if you were up on an auction block. She opens your mouth and pulls out your tongue, slides a gloved hand in to pinch your puffy nipple, and grips and gropes your generous globes. You squirm and swallow a sob of pleasure as your sister squats to the side of you, smirking.

"Hmm. She'll need to start a hormone regimen immediately and begin working on squat and kegels of course...I don't know if I want her to get any surgery...yet." Cindi speculates on your potential as Emma takes notes. It is utterly humiliating being discussed as if you were property she was considering the cost of improvements, but somehow it just makes you that much more **** to be owned by her.

"So, let's get one thing straight from the beginning, pupil," Cindi grabs your chin and lifts it up so you can look her in the eye, "You aren't going to be my boifriend, or my gurlfriend, or even my fucking friend." Her hand slides up your skirt and softly squeezes your rubberclad balls. "If you do a good job, you will be promoted from loser jerkoff fag turned sissy simp to your true destiny..." she crushes your balls in her surprisingly strong grip and you want to cry or cum, but don't dare do either. "A ****. My ****. That is the best and truest fate you could ever hope to strive for. To your knees. Now."

You don't need any further instruction. Your knees buckle as pain shoots through you like broken glass coursing through your veins. Maybe it's because your sexual urges have always been linked with humiliation and pain that they have become reciprocal. Maybe it's just because you are kneeling before the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, the girl of your wettest day dreams and naughtiest nightmare. Maybe you just realize that you were a failure as a man and anything is a promotion from the sluttiest sissy in school. Whatever the reason, you have never felt more twisted up and turned on or so serenely submissive and deviantly devoted.

Cindi stands above you. You can see her strap on peeking out from under her skirt and her wet slit shining between the straps and your mouth waters for both. "The first lesson, the most important lesson. The only lesson a brainless bimbo like you needs to bother remembering is obedience. If you obey me in all things, you will learn true happiness in slavish servitude."

You nod dumbly, awaiting your first instructions. Without a word, she commands you to follow her over to an old oak desk placed incongruously in the middle of a baroquely appointed room that looks like something out of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Fearsome. You watch her impeccable ass straining in her skirt as she leads you to the desk and motions for you to bend over it. Your ass is entirely exposed even with your sinfully short skirt and your ass wiggles impatiently for her to fill it. Instead you feel a stinging SWAT as her crop cuts into your fragile flesh.

You almost strangle yourself swallowing a shriek and are rewarded by the cold caress of the crop as Cindi coldly coos, "Good, pupil. Slaves don't scream in pleasure or pain. They don't make a peep without explicit permission. Slaves follow every order, whether stated out loud or implicitly implied. Slaves must be empty headed yet intuitive enough to know how to please your Mistress before I even anticipate a desire. I should never have a moment of unfulfilled desire, whereas you..."

TWHIP SHWIP THWAP SWISH SWAT

The crop strikes your cheeks with lighting speed and punishing precision. They bite your buttocks below your rubber panties' protection and against your thighs and legs. Your tears flow freely, but you stifle your screams and bite your tongue until it bleeds. Your your salty sanguine blood is a taste you expect you'll learn to love, especially as a sauce covering your dominatrix's delicacies. You see Emma out of the corner of your eye, sneaking a hand between her legs as she rocks back and forth, rapturously riveted by your suffering.

"Hmmm. A little more crying than I'd like, but it's not bad for a start. ****, kiss this C minus slut's welts so we can get ready for lesson two." Before Cindi stops speaking you can feel the cooling balm of your sister's soft lips. It's even harder to muffle your moans than it was to stop the screams, but you manage to listen intently for lesson two.